tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-180401502024-03-07T03:09:00.303-05:00Sir Ryder of CuppRyder is one of our cats. He originally belonged to my mother-in-law. She had a hard time deciding on a name for him. She toyed with "Nickel" and "Baby" but neither name felt just right. The Ryder Cup golf tournament was held in Rochester that year and finally she decided on "Ryder Cup." Ryder soon made it apparent that he was of royal standing and thus became SIR RYDER OF CUPP.Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-85070698481555507642010-12-18T12:20:00.003-05:002010-12-18T12:39:13.548-05:00He Lives !I stopped posting on the Sir Ryder of Cupp blog, because I dreaded I would have to write of his passing. Unbelievably, Ryder is alive, kicking and brilliantly acting the part of a grouchy old man. He still has some bad days health wise but manages to recover. When he is sick, he lies in the bathtub so we refer to it as the hospital. He still has his beautiful coat and moves spryly and loves getting new toys.<br /><br />This past year, he has used his nursing skills to take care of me. I am a cancer patient now and he is there to console me when I'm having a down day. He took excellent care of his first mommy too.<br /><br />He continues to bully Shasta and anyone else who strikes his fancy, especially if he is not feeling well.Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-87045729003360298802008-02-11T23:32:00.000-05:002008-02-11T23:52:23.265-05:00Award For Excellence<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpvBu6tBWBdQxisOrH2OgrRpkw23nmPY7xeiwBqOzqE6pVpnL4ow5Mo8Jzb4sgjAQmYbQRe-xmeYPBSsj7lDwHpd-ciPeOAP18kcr2rwIpkkwWNO8kiFnihZOWUR1cgIKCaVwC/s1600-h/Lily+021.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165948017172754098" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpvBu6tBWBdQxisOrH2OgrRpkw23nmPY7xeiwBqOzqE6pVpnL4ow5Mo8Jzb4sgjAQmYbQRe-xmeYPBSsj7lDwHpd-ciPeOAP18kcr2rwIpkkwWNO8kiFnihZOWUR1cgIKCaVwC/s200/Lily+021.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div> </div><div>Ryder, in a true display of royal arrogance, gave me that "So?" look and went back to napping when I told him that he had won an award for excellence. However, I am sure that he thanks all his fellow felines at <a href="http://cole200.blogspot.com/">The Zoo </a>for so generously giving him this honor.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>To give you all an update on his health, he is doing quite well. He has some bad times but much of the time, he is well enough to really annoy his sister, Shasta. Thank you all for your thoughts and purr-ers.</div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-7728850366477149872008-01-26T12:00:00.000-05:002008-01-26T12:13:02.883-05:00Royal Mannerisms<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlJ73oa7aQJmViNqdh3elshO64xuCIv5mOJunUlO0iVNbnSLzJ1AfG2oBqGhtnHYTfYDYyZQi5kNETvrzKNV8pieU3tMlenGhhBxyYaxGI2LUnhKBzu3ml0rJ43EtkvAj-e5Lr/s1600-h/herrick+allen+logo+027.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159832352147425154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlJ73oa7aQJmViNqdh3elshO64xuCIv5mOJunUlO0iVNbnSLzJ1AfG2oBqGhtnHYTfYDYyZQi5kNETvrzKNV8pieU3tMlenGhhBxyYaxGI2LUnhKBzu3ml0rJ43EtkvAj-e5Lr/s320/herrick+allen+logo+027.jpg" border="0" /></a> People often comment on Ryder's regal bearing. Here he demonstrates the correct form for relaxation. Notice the angle at which the head is held, and the placement of ears to enhance the silhouette. Above all, notice the elegance rendered by the carefully crossed feet. Closed eyes are allowed if everything else is done correctly.<br /><div></div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-18429876730013750942008-01-24T19:05:00.000-05:002008-01-24T19:26:20.776-05:00Ryder and Mom Have Disagreement<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-UwHJyrvrtQNrAe5SBPVt8zWVUcHm57S9e2DCHrYtUCEfDZIaCEZ8uyb4g-UxVSu47RuSbZRlAs2N59dxzTbE9SE25X4mSqgqlxfNtaV91tn8RFW9LpHXCQrkXC9_UIuE10wg/s1600-h/100_0114.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159199231018321730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-UwHJyrvrtQNrAe5SBPVt8zWVUcHm57S9e2DCHrYtUCEfDZIaCEZ8uyb4g-UxVSu47RuSbZRlAs2N59dxzTbE9SE25X4mSqgqlxfNtaV91tn8RFW9LpHXCQrkXC9_UIuE10wg/s200/100_0114.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="color:#990000;"><strong><em>Ryder says</em></strong></span>: My mom says that now that I feel a little better I have to clean my room. My room is located under a china cabinet that belonged to my first Mom. I chose this spot because both my moms keep my catnip in a drawer right above my space. I have to have a catnip fix everyday unless I'm real sick. </div><div> </div><div>In my room, I have two sheets of tissue paper about two years old, the bottom half of a gift box acquired at Christmas time, a plastic bag I stole in the night, and some of my favorite toys. I finally got my room just the way I want it and she says I have to clean it up!</div><div> </div><div><span style="color:#990000;"><strong><em>Mom says</em></strong></span>: I have always taken pride in having a clean and tidy house and I find it embarrassing that Ryder has created this mess right in the living room. Besides, now he spends most of his time in his makeshift bed. I think it's time for some housecleaning.</div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-45207323082835533852008-01-23T15:35:00.000-05:002008-01-23T16:06:06.398-05:00Ryder Sends Thanks For Your Purr-ers<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguv923bnfb1vCdB01vYpYEdxlaQel9YVRkDJ55ntG4UCNcLEA6WDQO-or-ImUKXzGs8WcryV6Risu9i9029NOYvfLvQMQvQN8lx-hK86O0ZSOgV_ZEZIzqW_JHKUsJGH9iQkwo/s1600-h/100_0108.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158780029325330226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguv923bnfb1vCdB01vYpYEdxlaQel9YVRkDJ55ntG4UCNcLEA6WDQO-or-ImUKXzGs8WcryV6Risu9i9029NOYvfLvQMQvQN8lx-hK86O0ZSOgV_ZEZIzqW_JHKUsJGH9iQkwo/s200/100_0108.jpg" border="0" /></a> Sir Ryder and all who live with him are grateful for all the purr-ers you've sent to him. It reminds his mom of the old adage "A trouble shared is a trouble halved."<br /><br />This picture was taken a few minutes ago. His Regalness is waiting by the front door for Shasta to come back in from the sunporch. He's so handsome.<br /><div></div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-51560285949417086562008-01-21T14:30:00.000-05:002008-01-21T14:41:38.420-05:00RN Shasta Cares for Ryder<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhix4DY3tJMvSMvqtFIJniV5vOyDpyccRkbaPrG7FCWj34hR8HhBV4zCdjgqznvOid937HeyEMEqiM1xV6gtYJR09_HdUORJcLV73cxeg5tTue7pzUjtEOxgHup-F5gBQm8N8Ts/s1600-h/100_0035.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158015020726958482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhix4DY3tJMvSMvqtFIJniV5vOyDpyccRkbaPrG7FCWj34hR8HhBV4zCdjgqznvOid937HeyEMEqiM1xV6gtYJR09_HdUORJcLV73cxeg5tTue7pzUjtEOxgHup-F5gBQm8N8Ts/s320/100_0035.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><p>Ryder (black and white cat) was recently diagnosed with liver disease. When he was quite critical recently, I made him a "temporary" bed from a plastic storage box and a blanket. At that point, he was too weak to jump into his favorite chair or on a bed.</p><p>Shasta (white cat) makes a point of checking on his condition frequently, as you can see from this photo. In fact, it was her behavior regarding Ryder that convinced us that something was seriously wrong with Ryder.</p><p>Their roles have been reversed. Ryder was always nurse to the "beans"; now Shasta is nurse to Ryder.</p>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-23255526405656274652008-01-21T01:17:00.000-05:002008-01-21T01:34:23.911-05:00Ryder Acknowledges Christmas<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOt3Fpaf-OglDW7MKyRBhg30MMA3cowmKwZ2-cv0VL3wgXuWOp50jDvyDvnYtCQis-ozKRryo7mMneU3RiSu_nl3eXO5_jjeNzQ3DGcKkcM4BQotUGpj0TuSiic2KSeDLrgC2T/s1600-h/100_0031.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157810722017589618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOt3Fpaf-OglDW7MKyRBhg30MMA3cowmKwZ2-cv0VL3wgXuWOp50jDvyDvnYtCQis-ozKRryo7mMneU3RiSu_nl3eXO5_jjeNzQ3DGcKkcM4BQotUGpj0TuSiic2KSeDLrgC2T/s320/100_0031.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Each year I have this Charlie Brown Christmas tree on a stand in my little sitting room. Other people laugh at it but I LIKE IT.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Ryder likes it too. He snoops in the gifts to see if there's anything for him (there isn't because I learned long ago that he could find his gifts and opened them as soon as he had located them).</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>I'm grateful to have this picture because we had just received word from the vet that Ryder has liver disease. We take his health day-to-day and pray for as many good days as the Lord sees fit to give him. He is thirteen but we had hoped to have him until he was thirty...........</div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-64922485558798400182007-10-24T18:01:00.000-04:002007-10-24T18:08:15.276-04:00A Bad Hair Day<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrL6JbZXQSEJ6focfPbo3JZk5FS8CxbmfkKzGw_hU3PZ88OLB8SuZH8DeurnO9ySviodVzRqS9NBNgeFZoNS5pAFqCLwZ6N1XngfHtfprW_X7WU0EDcDQ92fh6sHsDB83tDUu-/s1600-h/bad-hair-day.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125027092164039378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrL6JbZXQSEJ6focfPbo3JZk5FS8CxbmfkKzGw_hU3PZ88OLB8SuZH8DeurnO9ySviodVzRqS9NBNgeFZoNS5pAFqCLwZ6N1XngfHtfprW_X7WU0EDcDQ92fh6sHsDB83tDUu-/s400/bad-hair-day.jpg" border="0" /></a> Not only did this cat get the <span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">dreaded</span> b-a-t-h </span><span style="font-size:100%;">but they also had to mess with her "do". Sometimes life gets out of hand. There are more cute cat pictures on this <a href="http://www.thecatgallery.com/">site</a>.<br /></span><div></div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-87455632339742970882007-10-15T18:34:00.001-04:002007-10-15T18:48:11.076-04:00Latest Pet Rage?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg70UxD93M9bWukDYIvg68pOVinsD6XOpXg_UTGJwotgcasKZX7GKpl_YKv47ti4-xh6eYTYhPPROKbwRZYDM-nr4PDrXHs9AantGQCE6pQPMfMqhL4rkZdodNz0EhjxPEmJADg/s1600-h/little+pig+in+scale.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121695924119196322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg70UxD93M9bWukDYIvg68pOVinsD6XOpXg_UTGJwotgcasKZX7GKpl_YKv47ti4-xh6eYTYhPPROKbwRZYDM-nr4PDrXHs9AantGQCE6pQPMfMqhL4rkZdodNz0EhjxPEmJADg/s320/little+pig+in+scale.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>ABC News reports that miniature pigs are being bred at a farm in Devon, England. The little piggies are said to be ideal pets and easy to house train. The breeder tries to sell the porkers in pairs so they will have the companionship of their own kind. The farm has a website at <a href="http://www.pennywellfarmcentre.co.uk/">http://www.pennywellfarmcentre.co.uk/</a>. The little guys look adorable.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-21738654658342786292007-10-01T07:53:00.000-04:002007-10-01T08:03:35.608-04:00Ogden Nash's View of an Ostrich<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp8UMjao4DU_qc5foFM1E38XUAQCZiGEuzz-CuWQfgYipGI5wsNIB8hpa1UCSmT6XsVj2QudptFT9vnBm13QocQ0WcNSItLsyPsEjLstVQvNlv-0vZIKAbJ-cxOfBp0Ae84BvL/s1600-h/ostrich.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116336191480844818" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp8UMjao4DU_qc5foFM1E38XUAQCZiGEuzz-CuWQfgYipGI5wsNIB8hpa1UCSmT6XsVj2QudptFT9vnBm13QocQ0WcNSItLsyPsEjLstVQvNlv-0vZIKAbJ-cxOfBp0Ae84BvL/s320/ostrich.jpg" border="0" /></a> Here's another Ogden Nash poem:<br /><br /><strong><em>The Ostrich</em></strong><br /><em><br />The ostrich roams the great Sahara. </em><br /><em>Its mouth is wide, its neck is narra. </em><br /><em>It has such long and lofty legs, </em><br /><em>I'm glad it sits to lay its eggs.<br /></em><br />I've been in love with Ogden Dash poetry as long as I can remember. His short and witty poems never fail to delight.Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-50867074811177002822007-09-25T10:06:00.000-04:002007-09-25T10:19:54.260-04:00My Sidekick<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbDItIP2C5EhuFPPudaBc4OnbzdG8mps3UDJ9aF9wPfITfnR3XQIb6CWbIcRgnga56wmmIGLyiG9DOhLkJWDb-AXBndgt4BJhJE-snlrrHCMZWI8kIRLw1b4G3mnqUpRy-Z9jE/s1600-h/My+SK.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114143816834666994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbDItIP2C5EhuFPPudaBc4OnbzdG8mps3UDJ9aF9wPfITfnR3XQIb6CWbIcRgnga56wmmIGLyiG9DOhLkJWDb-AXBndgt4BJhJE-snlrrHCMZWI8kIRLw1b4G3mnqUpRy-Z9jE/s320/My+SK.jpg" border="0" /></a> Shasta (right) has complained recently that Ryder is getting too much press and that she gets none. I suppose she's right. <br /><br />As you can see, Shasta is no lightweight. She also came to us as a very confused cat, unsure of how to approach life. I wish I could say that living with us has improved her outlook but I can't.<br /><br />Despite her confusion about many things, she is very clear about her love for us. And ours for her.Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-59863286350255061642007-09-24T22:23:00.000-04:002007-09-26T08:54:54.454-04:00Fattest Cat in the USA?<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8fZBiTGLoIUK-mrXh9U1Q85nsLSavYTcEbYS3_16P4nHl5EQirI0UUELRaPgJsy59Hqtpp3pJpdx9m9yPQjgaqFE8ZP5qHZuj4ZBxJp2rlawaBlaILv073ta7BJUiV13VkYWe/s1600-h/Sam,+the+Fat+Cat.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113966589304164802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8fZBiTGLoIUK-mrXh9U1Q85nsLSavYTcEbYS3_16P4nHl5EQirI0UUELRaPgJsy59Hqtpp3pJpdx9m9yPQjgaqFE8ZP5qHZuj4ZBxJp2rlawaBlaILv073ta7BJUiV13VkYWe/s320/Sam,+the+Fat+Cat.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Meet <a href="http://www.wsbtv.com/news/8298710/detail.html">Sam</a>, a cat who lives near Atlanta, Georgia. He weighs a whopping 45 lbs. While looking for heavy cats, I learned that the Guinness Book of Records no longer lists records for overweight cats because of the danger of people overfeeding their animals just to set a record. Good for Guinness.</div><br /><br /><div>Go the Sam link to see additional pictures, especially the ones of Sam with his owner.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-72835506562394361152007-09-24T21:22:00.001-04:002007-09-24T21:36:46.833-04:00Regal Ryder<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUd-3dLjCP5_0WUHK5E7Oqf8-Uedw12bkhiihyphenhyphenbCqBdYgdkoHkmBe9rTGs2eiK5_yNJJHAXj4Z0Ru04z1L8MVbfLZBUVfsdeXnNvCW4ycn2UglsnsynTAv-tWlvxiv6QPmFjJ0/s1600-h/DSC00500.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113948786664722866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUd-3dLjCP5_0WUHK5E7Oqf8-Uedw12bkhiihyphenhyphenbCqBdYgdkoHkmBe9rTGs2eiK5_yNJJHAXj4Z0Ru04z1L8MVbfLZBUVfsdeXnNvCW4ycn2UglsnsynTAv-tWlvxiv6QPmFjJ0/s320/DSC00500.JPG" border="0" /></a> Ryder, The Regal, contemplates the coming cold season and doesn't look too happy about it. I don't understand why because he loves air conditioning and stands over the window unit whenever I turn it on.<br /><div></div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-49345302389376216582007-09-20T02:36:00.000-04:002007-09-20T02:46:47.056-04:00Camouflage<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi82j7QCc0KtVl8TT3eOnxSXv0EhMrHF22LIwplnZHRelimZzVzeP6pZ-YQWBKnQ5hyWyIB7hWKcfyMm5CKzN7P60Tf1Gsb12KEAIbxRh1i3_u_GfnPy8gR7FVAro-aH5bwbJa6/s1600-h/DSC00480.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112172314414444114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi82j7QCc0KtVl8TT3eOnxSXv0EhMrHF22LIwplnZHRelimZzVzeP6pZ-YQWBKnQ5hyWyIB7hWKcfyMm5CKzN7P60Tf1Gsb12KEAIbxRh1i3_u_GfnPy8gR7FVAro-aH5bwbJa6/s320/DSC00480.JPG" border="0" /></a> Here's Sir Ryder with his soccer ball. Molly was watching him. Maybe she was wondering what was up with the black and white..........<br /><div></div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-84306607685684168792007-08-15T10:42:00.001-04:002007-08-15T10:47:19.417-04:00Talented Cat<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuPPkjBcliGpJGs-sKbMA6oOI0swc4voKtOLmkqH9zRpie-JvTQosykZt9yt77YjF0KZpQ5f4kcBsFFo6cjSFjYYLnv7JuYpXLzhcq9OGqcuKPTYphCznI8GlE1Lhq_brt1-hV/s1600-h/musiccat.jpeg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098938482598893746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuPPkjBcliGpJGs-sKbMA6oOI0swc4voKtOLmkqH9zRpie-JvTQosykZt9yt77YjF0KZpQ5f4kcBsFFo6cjSFjYYLnv7JuYpXLzhcq9OGqcuKPTYphCznI8GlE1Lhq_brt1-hV/s200/musiccat.jpeg" border="0" /></a> I love the felines that can do more than catch mice and ignore humans.<br /><div></div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-22788722277898291922007-08-13T10:59:00.000-04:002007-08-13T11:07:32.743-04:00You Know You Are A Cat Person If.....I just found an interesting website at <a href="http://www.felinefollies.com/">www.felinefollies.com</a>. Among their features I found this article titled <em><strong>"You Know You Are A Cat Person If......."</strong></em><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">1. If all your Christmas presents are related to cats. — Leah<br />2. If, at 8:00 p.m. on a Friday night, you notice a small rash starting on your kitty’s neck, so you rush him to the emergency room and spend a week’s pay, just to be told it’s time for another bath. — Debra Franco<br />3. If, at bedtime, whichever cat’s not already in bed, you carry them to bed one at a time, in order of seniority. — Janet Fink<br />4. If, at night trying to get comfortable in bed, you feel as if you’re playing cat "Twister." — Dara Keenan<br />5. If, at night, your cat sleeps in bed with you and your spouse. — Dara Keenan<br />6. If, being a well brought-up young lady, your cat writes "thank you" letters for birthday and Christmas cards received. — Heather<br />7. If cardboard boxes and sisal are part of your home decor.<br />8. If cat germs mean nothing, and you and your cat drink out of the same glass. — Carol Thompson<br />9. If everyone around you hates cats, and your response is, "Well, you don’t have to visit." — Dawn Williford<br />10. If hairballs are a common topic of conversation among your friends.<br />11. If a friend gives you a cat scratching post and kitty toys for your birthday. — Joyce Wermont<br />12. If, after a hard day at work, you get home feeling tired, but you feed your kitties before doing anything else. — Cathy Higgins<br />13. If, after discovering the joys of cat ownership, you try to convince everyone you know — even lifelong cat haters — that they should adopt a cat.<br />14. If, after months of working on the family tree, tracing many generations across the world and time, the cat appears on the "tree" with his own branch. — Leisa Logan<br />15. If almost every checkout clerk at the grocery store greets you with, "How many cats do you have?"<br />16. If you come home from grocery shopping with several bags of cat food, a few cat toys, a bag of litter, cat treats — yet only a six-pack of soda and chips for yourself. — Yevarechya<br />17. If cleaning the litter isn’t a chore because you know the kitties will be much happier with a clean box. — Kerry Bolduc<br />18. If each one of your cats gets spoken to in their own individual "special voice."<br />19. If every meal is shared, no matter how hungry you are. — Kerry Bolduc<br />20. If every time you see a cat, you become very "maternal" and say, "Oh, pusshy pusshy pusshy!" — Fran</span>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-1642868944751318912007-07-21T13:53:00.000-04:002007-07-21T13:57:02.442-04:00Roses and Ryder<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEXluYNLKiuW8TuBuM0NRgyRQJXAnsEUuz2C2nxZK1XO0CR8WqBwaTX2ke5mZs64HqVX000kTee3N4P6fc0Z7XmvCOm0E4oJVSghLTcz5UJ9QNW5b3dkk8OmyuNGpH87Fzg2kw/s1600-h/herrick+allen+logo+026.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089710285801937042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEXluYNLKiuW8TuBuM0NRgyRQJXAnsEUuz2C2nxZK1XO0CR8WqBwaTX2ke5mZs64HqVX000kTee3N4P6fc0Z7XmvCOm0E4oJVSghLTcz5UJ9QNW5b3dkk8OmyuNGpH87Fzg2kw/s400/herrick+allen+logo+026.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I caught this picture of Sir Ryder when he was taking time to smell the roses..........</div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-49587523129827436452007-04-18T09:28:00.000-04:002007-04-18T09:36:25.215-04:00More Of Ogden Nash<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMMMLabWqf-YWXjldsXowIcQlGZ5XDVJ3cwXPJItYsjGN948_TZLjF-b4Yw7bEG-J7hAjs_AevtrAAsInZhPxvVNa4veJiM6olIM68kZV0rcgt8uLmV-sqPNOjDLbzSOHyLAuL/s1600-h/Ogden+Nash.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054759847958641314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMMMLabWqf-YWXjldsXowIcQlGZ5XDVJ3cwXPJItYsjGN948_TZLjF-b4Yw7bEG-J7hAjs_AevtrAAsInZhPxvVNa4veJiM6olIM68kZV0rcgt8uLmV-sqPNOjDLbzSOHyLAuL/s320/Ogden+Nash.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><p>Because Ogden Nash's poetry often is about animals, this blog seems an appropriate place to share some. This one is named <span style="color:#990000;"><u>The Panther</u>.</span></p><p><em><span style="color:#000000;">A panther is like a leopard</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color:#000000;">Except it hasn't been peppered.</span></em></p><p><em><span style="color:#000000;">Should you behold a panther crouch</span></em></p><p><em>Prepare to say "Ouch".</em></p><p><em>Better yet, if called by a panther,</em></p><p><em>Don't anther.</em></p>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-19822601346016645332007-04-13T20:51:00.000-04:002007-04-13T20:55:58.469-04:00Feline Love<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxc6wngUBPHzvsTOvWgtIvxqyNsL2NRtTNOnIP67m2jO1WptLdGuyKuXTZ-DStvxTTmTnnwdlV4MS9MioU28pCCDcP3z31x2tIB3SdsCTQQD9wklxkyrCPWYB05LQavPARRggs/s1600-h/cats+in+sink.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053080277254215026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxc6wngUBPHzvsTOvWgtIvxqyNsL2NRtTNOnIP67m2jO1WptLdGuyKuXTZ-DStvxTTmTnnwdlV4MS9MioU28pCCDcP3z31x2tIB3SdsCTQQD9wklxkyrCPWYB05LQavPARRggs/s320/cats+in+sink.jpg" border="0" /></a> I found this adorable picture on a <a href="http://www.cutelittlekittens.com">website</a> with many more adorable kitty pictures. Check it out.<br /><div></div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-89824001657514160362007-04-03T16:30:00.000-04:002007-04-03T16:44:19.750-04:00Ryder's Snit<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGLt-mZy13yts3dEf_MLAehoNeW-E7q3lrbki98BnAWz-kPrZtHqGoCsHrQOvDFn3N08DpeOKLbCmIHNfKfKR0MOkOhrTj_DoyyBIxTXXIyclav29MAWpEcp5JEqOJVoLKz8Iu/s1600-h/DSC00390.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049304774931772786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGLt-mZy13yts3dEf_MLAehoNeW-E7q3lrbki98BnAWz-kPrZtHqGoCsHrQOvDFn3N08DpeOKLbCmIHNfKfKR0MOkOhrTj_DoyyBIxTXXIyclav29MAWpEcp5JEqOJVoLKz8Iu/s320/DSC00390.JPG" border="0" /></a> Ryder is in a snit because he can't go out on the porch due to construction. Today I found him pouting in one of the empty bookcases. H always feels that everyone should suffer as much as he does.<br /><div></div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-300985738903542262007-04-01T18:51:00.000-04:002007-04-01T19:09:56.259-04:00Ryder's Crazy Eyes<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5j7jnHUHQXf7xGcygUA3GpaJPGvmsRzcKVM4L4rs4A__St5beQev32hseRCryAoaPH31nC6_FTjx3Rc0SgwuBY7AsySgldq2B-UJm5opc_w6d0aLM4RyzJGZsuyq6MGd87TiL/s1600-h/DSC00033.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048599816179676482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5j7jnHUHQXf7xGcygUA3GpaJPGvmsRzcKVM4L4rs4A__St5beQev32hseRCryAoaPH31nC6_FTjx3Rc0SgwuBY7AsySgldq2B-UJm5opc_w6d0aLM4RyzJGZsuyq6MGd87TiL/s320/DSC00033.JPG" border="0" /></a> I love this picture of Sir Ryder. Even though his eyes are the same color, light plays a trick in this photo, giving him one <span style="color:#009900;">green</span> eye and one <span style="color:#330099;">blue</span> eye.<br /><div></div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-83636925103285067742007-03-21T19:18:00.000-04:002007-03-21T19:46:31.856-04:00Meet Lily<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZJR0GdcerRglXO0BZta4Jry6dHaPxpKNd6nfzj4wtWnXkpDeGeDQ_rScsxsXONZkm1lSqbhQ_X0s8Imtbm0h9QQWeSqcVnPbFiNUKWbWFFHAiRV9hyD1z0-R4yx7F_RxSOvLW/s1600-h/DSC00332.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044521938754227826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZJR0GdcerRglXO0BZta4Jry6dHaPxpKNd6nfzj4wtWnXkpDeGeDQ_rScsxsXONZkm1lSqbhQ_X0s8Imtbm0h9QQWeSqcVnPbFiNUKWbWFFHAiRV9hyD1z0-R4yx7F_RxSOvLW/s320/DSC00332.JPG" border="0" /></a> This is Lily who arrived in the neighborhood in November. She has grown but is still very small and is eagerly learning her way in the world. I know she is of the canine ilk but we love her anyway.<br /><br />Speaking of "ilk" reminds me of Ogden Nash who said:<br /> <br /> <strong><em><span style="color:#000099;">A cow is of the bovine ilk.</span></em></strong><br /><strong><em><span style="color:#000099;"> One end is moo,</span></em></strong><br /><span style="color:#000099;"><strong><em> The other milk.</em></strong><br /></span>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-78781430694630174672007-03-18T22:02:00.000-04:002007-03-18T22:15:14.284-04:00Sir Ryder's Bed<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSBxdnojL9Pxi7IlSqaV_AvDYn6oqujB7gjfraRsjssJRqv_0OwaZYoX6nSyGmYPqtaIPle4MR7pabM-EODyPhzlH1yRMhN6lwxzPHNBqJGN9AeKe4E3jV8YL0UgN202hVgmC2/s1600-h/Pictures+422.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5043451215610952114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSBxdnojL9Pxi7IlSqaV_AvDYn6oqujB7gjfraRsjssJRqv_0OwaZYoX6nSyGmYPqtaIPle4MR7pabM-EODyPhzlH1yRMhN6lwxzPHNBqJGN9AeKe4E3jV8YL0UgN202hVgmC2/s400/Pictures+422.jpg" border="0" /></a> For years, Ryder slept in our bedroom in a basket that seemed too small for him. When he was my mother-in-law's cat, we used two identical baskets to pack her meals in and then to pick up the dirty dishes. When she passed away, the baskets sat idle until one day we found Ryder in one of them. I added a piece of sheepskin and he claimed the basket as his. About four years later, I decided he need a new piece of sheepskin. He never got in the basket again. Don't mess with the castles of royalty.Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-66825464545591430442007-03-13T09:20:00.000-04:002007-03-13T09:33:03.487-04:00Shasta's Recovery<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSkflw8mm-SGd4xHaT3uE_VCv-XJ0pji3RC5x9RJEtcsLMGL3d9lgeVurzulyXsDCZbNa2vqahQqXwT_R_1FqceLiYtmWr6s_ttRAyWwPQVhocFrgxYHFpNWn3UyVMtztyQ7S-/s1600-h/Pictures+326.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041399294985288034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSkflw8mm-SGd4xHaT3uE_VCv-XJ0pji3RC5x9RJEtcsLMGL3d9lgeVurzulyXsDCZbNa2vqahQqXwT_R_1FqceLiYtmWr6s_ttRAyWwPQVhocFrgxYHFpNWn3UyVMtztyQ7S-/s320/Pictures+326.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>My sidekick, Shasta, has recovered from some unknown malaise. She was very lethargic for several days and stayed on my bed 24/7. Now she's back playing with Ryder and waiting for her friend, Molly, to visit.</div><div> </div><div>She's also waiting for warmer weather so she can spend more time on the porch, watching the birds and other neighbors.</div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18040150.post-76687158783634264322007-03-12T15:16:00.000-04:002007-03-12T15:25:48.276-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-VzAndoHSwv-v2hpDPVGSPfOQZAn0PIDLAZiIKVz4n4XjnJGUtjoDAsVo5wQb4gdSm2feh0AgwPEC_oYMeZRH_jhH1x46_1yKwcf9AqvFi66m5Oswe-Q-7QWLr4lKXqIOh4eb/s1600-h/mommycat.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041120388399020370" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-VzAndoHSwv-v2hpDPVGSPfOQZAn0PIDLAZiIKVz4n4XjnJGUtjoDAsVo5wQb4gdSm2feh0AgwPEC_oYMeZRH_jhH1x46_1yKwcf9AqvFi66m5Oswe-Q-7QWLr4lKXqIOh4eb/s320/mommycat.jpg" border="0" /></a> How's this for maternal love? Or is Mama holding the baby in place so she can catch some ZZZs? Whatever. I love the picture.<br /><div></div>Lillian Russohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15781225190591919692noreply@blogger.com4